


Smooth Criminal

by CavalryCarousel, SarahMuffin



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Shit, F/M, I promise, Joe and Eddie die in the beginning but that's it, M/M, death of important characters, definitely sex, sex probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-03 02:42:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5273486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalryCarousel/pseuds/CavalryCarousel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahMuffin/pseuds/SarahMuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the lives of the three closest people to our protagonist—Barry Allen—are threatened, the speedster begins a city-wrecking fight. What will happen when the Rogues—a group of villains that has had shaky alliances with Team Flash in the past—take it upon themselves to stop it? </p>
<p>[ lol this bitch gone get rewrote yo ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Glad You Came

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was pretty thrilling, which wasn't really something I had planned when I first started writing this lame story a few weeks ago, but during the rewrite, shit just kind of happened, so here we are.
> 
> I'm dedicating this story to SarahMuffin because she read this piece of garbage during it's unfinished state, and I had no idea how bad it was until I got to the rewrite, so...
> 
> Otherwise, don't expect frequent updates. I'll post chapters when I can- because, like, they take forever for me to write (I must perfect each and every one of them before posting it) so and I'm busy with school and other activities right now.
> 
> Each chapter (I might add) is based off of a song on the Coldflash playlist that can be found at this link: https://open.spotify.com/user/12152619188/playlist/3gOIwqwEuL4RZXIg8edVOI
> 
> But now that I've said that, enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You only begin to realize how bad the situation is, when a criminal has to save the hero—from another criminal.

Len, Lisa, and Mick had not been active recently, simply because it was blazingly hot outside and Len’s—specifically—cold gun often would malfunction when in this sort of weather. While this was only after extensive use of the weapon for elongated periods of time, the band of Rogues weren’t willing to risk it in case the thing was destroyed, or Len was hurt. However, that did not mean Central City was as dormant as the Rogues were—quite the opposite, in fact, as this day was proving.

It was a warm, quickly darkening Friday summer evening, and all was quiet in the Snart safehouse. Outside, though, it sounded as though there were bombings going down all throughout the city. Which—from Len’s point of view—there probably was. Buildings were toppling over in an array of different locations. Len couldn’t see why, but the elevated apartment balcony was providing him with a clear view of the falling structures.

There was the added fact that small tornados were pulling people, cars, and whatever else—that wasn’t physically connected to the ground—into a spiraling wind storm in the sky. It was on every news channel that Lisa was currently—lazily—flicking through, but despite the large newsfeed of Central City’s destruction, the source was still unknown, which was probably the most frustrating variable at the moment.

For on-lookers like Len, it could be assumed to be another one of the meta-human attacks, but for residents living closer to the heart of the city, the entire situation was becoming more and more clear. It wasn’t a meta-human attack at all.

 

**30 Minutes Earlier**

 

“The Flash is coming. You’ll never win,” Joe said with smirk evident in his tone as he attempted to remain confident and collected—despite their current situation. Eddie and Iris were currently tied up much like he was, beside him. While they had been mostly silent, Joe had been trying to antagonize their oppressor, to get him to make an angry and stupid move, which would make Barry’s work infinitely easier. But for now, Joe also couldn’t seem weak to his daughter’s and her to-be-fiancée’s eyes. He couldn’t appear to be as afraid as he was, and he knew he also had to play the stalling game until Barry found them, and saved them. He always had—always would. He’d declared that more than once.

The assailant peered down at them defiantly, with a grin of his own, teeth glistening in the dingy lighting coming from a shit lamp on the shit table behind them. The man was tall—taller than Barry, and had perfectly combed—almost flawless—light brown hair. It was obvious that the man put product in it—but Barry did too, so Joe couldn’t say much for that factor. The man’s face was mostly hidden in the dark underground of the sewers, but Joe could still make out that he was young—maybe in his late twenties, or early thirties. But despite this, he radiated youth. Maybe he put product on his face, too?

From what Joe had observed about this man already, he had no specific or legitimate powers, other than being an asshole—which he had wound down to a science. However, he did have an impossibly large firearm, which was just barely smaller than an elevated machine gun. To carry the thing around must have literal hell. This was no ordinary weapon, though. It was faster than anything—other than Barry—that Joe had ever encountered before. The barrel was enormous, as well, and Joe shuddered to the think of the ammunition that the thing could fire. The recoil must have—also—been literal hell?

Their assailant had told Joe a few things about it, almost—no, definitely—in a bragging tone. He’d said that he’d created it, and there was nothing like it anywhere else in the world. Joe believed him.

“Did you capture us just to talk about your little toy?” Joe barked suddenly, as their oppressor hadn’t said anything in response to the detective’s first bold statement. “It doesn’t scare me—it doesn’t scare my partner, and it certainly doesn’t scare my daughter.” Joe continued stubbornly, spitting toward the tall man. It wasn’t true—he could see that Iris was scared, and he could just barely detect that Eddie was worried too. But they steeled their expressions after Joe’s words, and Joe felt proud of them. They would get out of here, he had to believe that. And Eddie would propose to Iris, because he knew that if he didn’t now, he might never be able to, and Joe knew that as well. While he hadn’t been ready to give Eddie his blessing before, this whole kidnapping situation had made him see that Eddie was, in fact, worthy of it.

He made Iris happy, and made her feel safe. Eddie was the reason that she wasn’t off-the-charts terrified right now, as she normally would be. Part of that was her determined will, and Joe knew that, too, but if Eddie weren’t there, Joe doubted they would be in the same place. The Gunman—as they had named their assailant earlier—pulled the gun he was so named for, from his shoulder and pointed it straight at Joe, the barrel nearly touching the detective’s nose. Joe felt his heart sink, but it was nothing compared to the feeling he felt when the weapon didn’t linger.

It moved past him, hesitated on Iris, before pointing at Eddie, as if their oppressor was deciding who he wanted to keep alive—for now—and who he wanted to exterminate. It was Eddie that he decided upon. And Joe had never been winded by the sound of a weapon going off, but this monster that this man had—it sent shivers up and down Joe’s spine that he would never forget. The sound of the barrel was like the roar of a dinosaur, mixed in with a nuclear explosion—if that even made sense, and to Joe, it did. He supposed that’s all that mattered at this point.

Joe was drawn back to reality by Iris’ scream “Eddie!”

“Your daughter is next, so… haha… if I were you, Detective West, I would choose what I want to do with my next…” the man checked his watch. “…five minutes wisely.” And Joe distantly heard Eddie’s body smack to the floor with a dull thud, followed by a sob from Iris. As Joe turned to look at his downed partner, he searched for any remains of Eddie’s upper body—and found none.

 

~

 

“Yo, Cisco!” Barry exclaimed, waltzing into the Cortex with his casual, bright smile as he settled into the roller chair beside the scientist—and honestly—and one of his closest friends—besides Iris. “You got anything?” Barry continued jovially, scanning over the monitors set on the thin countertop-like-table that was before them. “It’s been kinda slow at the station, and you didn’t call me at all today. Joe wasn’t in either—which is weird, ‘cause I saw him this morning.” Barry sighed, and leaned back, though still smiling.

Cisco shrugged and leaned back as well, waving lazily at the screens that Barry had been observing. “Yeah, nothing so far, man. S’been quiet all day—yesterday too. You should be partying, bro! No worries, am I right?” Cisco responded with his own signature—boyish, yet oddly charming—smile, as he rested his hands on the back of his head, and propped his feet up on a free space on the table, as he met Barry’s gaze.

“I guess, but there’s always training or something to get done, y’know?” Barry rolled his eyes softly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Besides, I can’t party because I don’t have any to party with. And what if something important comes up?”

“I mean, I doubt it, but I see your point. It’s not like you can get drunk, so you can always zip right out of there. And you don’t need to know people to party, dude. Just show up. You could probably pull of being a college student, and crash a frat party.” Cisco laughed slightly, before Barry snorted—causing them both to crack up. Of all people, for Barry Allen to show up at a college fraternity party? The very thought was hilarious. Barry had only to been to one of those while he was legitimately in college, and it had been horrible (Barry would never actually admit to having enjoyed himself).

 

~

 

A timer went off somewhere, and Joe assumed that was the ten-minute-mark. Panic erupted in his chest and he immediately moved toward Iris—who responded by circling in toward her dad as well. She wasn’t stupid—she knew exactly what was about to happen next, and Joe understood why she was scared now. He couldn’t lose Iris. Iris was—besides Barry—his only family that he had left. She was beautiful, young, intelligent, and the best thing Joe could have hoped for out of his daughter. And Barry loved her more than he cared about himself—he would give up his powers for her, Joe knew that it wouldn’t take so much as a second thought from him. Barry would do anything to save her, and yet where was he? Did he even know?

Barry not knowing irritated and infuriated Joe more than anything else. He knew it wasn’t Barry’s fault, but it was getting easier and easier to blame his son for all of this. Joe refused to, though, and he knew Iris felt the same, even though they hadn’t shared any words. Eddie’s death was still sinking in—how horrible it had been was the shocking part. It had not been a heroic death, it had been a torturous one—maybe short-lived for Eddie, but hell for the two who’d had to witness it—especially for Iris.

The Gunman approached and Joe’s breathing hitched, becoming palpitated. All he could do was cover Iris as much as he could, and hope that he would take whatever blow that that demon of a gun could throw at him.

“Move, detective.”

Joe shook his head defiantly. The Gunman sighed, but didn’t seem fazed by it, at all. He raised the weapon and switched a few notches here and there. He seemed to hesitate, as if deciding whether or not he agreed with his choice of—Joe assumed—ammunition. But, he quickly shrugged it off and re-aimed the weapon at them—specifically Joe now. The internals of the barrel spun for a moment before they stopped with a clicking sound—and Joe had never been more intimidated.

“So be it, Mr. West. But I’m afraid if your little boy was going to make an appearance, he would have done it by now…”

“He always did have timing issues…” Joe responded; mouth suddenly dry and irritated, eyes never leaving the barrel. The Gunman chuckled at the detective’s comment. Iris looked away.

She couldn’t watch this. Not again.

 

~

 

“Officer injured.” Cisco’s and Barry’s laughter died away quickly after sharing a few more jokes related to Barry’s not-so-wild college career, as the support system went off. They’d installed the software after Joe had first been captured by Grodd, but the thing almost rarely ever went off—without Barry knowing why. A few times, the alert system had been triggered for no reason, and Barry had rushed to find Joe, only succeeding in bursting into the living room to find Joe sprawled on the couch, eating chips and watching the game—looking startled.

But, even though this had occurred, Barry always made sure to check up on the thing if it were ever to go off. Quickly, he remembered the location—the sewers—as he flashed into his suit and out of the labs, turning on his coms so Cisco could direct him toward the location that it said Joe was at.

The device was no bigger than a portable cell-phone holder, and Barry had one that similar to Joe’s in his own suit—but since Joe didn’t have a suit, they’d had to improvise, and Joe’s was still in beta-testing, therefore it wasn’t fully ready to be introduced to the rest of the force. Cisco was still working on having the software tell him the exact extent of the detective’s injures—but for now, it just told him that in some way, somehow, Joe was in trouble—and of course—Joe’s whereabouts.

Barry was down in the sewers quickly, following Cisco’s directions down to every turn. Caitlin hadn’t been in that day—which Barry was a bit sour about. She would always be there to calm his nerves, especially since that had been Doctor Wells’ job, and, that situation didn’t exactly work itself out. Barry was terrified that he would run into Grodd again—and worse, he hadn’t bothered to grab Cisco’s anti-telepathy headset—but then again, Grodd had been hit by one of the moving underground trains… and recovering from that would be, truly, extraordinary.

The dingy sewers were gross every time Barry entered them, and both he and Cisco were sour about the sewage getting into the suit. Cisco declared that when Barry got back, he was doing a thorough cleaning, and possibly making a new suit—because there was no way that stench was living in the Cortex longer than absolutely necessary—if at all. That made Barry smile slightly to himself, but he quickly re-focused on the task at hand. Joe was hurt—and they were in Grodd’s territory. Not a smiley situation.

Eventually, Cisco’s directions lead him to an abandoned platform. Barry pulled himself up onto it. He’d forgotten where the sewers had become the underground railway, but apparently he had passed that point. Luckily, though, these tracks were inactive—and distantly he was happy for the commuters, since this particular platform was absolutely disgusting. Old trash that had to be at least fifty years old—if not older, along with dirt, grime, moss, you name it.

“Barry!”

He turned sharply, hearing his name. For the first time, he noticed a small wooden table that had a lamp placed on it, which was pretty much the only light in the area. Barry saw a tall man, and two bodies—with blood everywhere. And it had been Iris that had yelled for him. He rushed over, but the man was faster, and Barry was blasted back by the gun that the oppressor had pulled off of his shoulder quicker than Barry had anticipated. Apparently, he was good at this game.

Barry got to his feet again, determination welling up in his chest, causing electricity to spread throughout his veins. He rushed forward again, dodging a shot from the canon-like firearm and scooping Iris up in his arms. He only had milliseconds to take in the sight of Eddie and Joe’s bodies—and it almost made him freeze. Barry could only tell it was Joe and Eddie through their clothes, because their faces and even the majority of their bodies were destroyed. That must be the power of the weapon. Barry glanced at it as he was carrying Iris away from the man.

He got to the end of the platform, before he was tripped up by a shot that just barely missed his feet. Barry stumbled off the platform, and took Iris down with him—though he was on his feet again before she hit the tracks beneath them, zipping out of the sewers at a lightning-fast speed. He could hear the footfalls behind him—they echoed throughout the sewers.

They were being pursued.

As soon as they reached daylight, Barry placed Iris down. “Run! I’ll handle him. Don’t look back, don’t stop. Your safest bet is S.T.A.R. Labs. Now, go!” He ordered. Iris nodded in response, didn’t even wait for a cab, and instead just started sprinting away from Barry as fast as she could in her ridiculous heels.

 

**Present**

 

It was everywhere. All around him—fire from the man—the Gunman. Barry could barely keep up, despite the rage pulsing beneath his skin. The will to win, to save… electricity in his veins, and wind whipping across his face. It would have been thrilling if it weren’t for the debris that was constantly crashing down around him.

Every time Barry tried to make a move at the Gunman, it would be a vain attempt—the man was one step, two, three, four—constantly ahead of Barry, and suddenly Barry felt the frustration of not being able to best someone because they were faster than him. Barry had tried to grab the man, and run him into the ground, but he had only succeeded in getting a shot to the leg—of all places. Barry was certain it was shattered, because he immediately dropped to the ground, and he didn’t need to see the blood to feel it running down his leg and into his boot, were it pooled around his sole.

The gun had different settings—about six or seven of them—Barry wasn’t sure. He’d seen the man switching them as he worked at destroying Barry’s energy. There were canon-like blasts, explosive pellets, huge blasts of fire; like small asteroids almost. Mick Rory would be impressed. Plus more that Barry couldn’t remember. He knew for a fact that he’d been hit with one of the cannon balls, which should have completely annihilated his leg, but it was a luck-shot, just hitting him enough to stop him from running, but not enough to obliterate his calf.

Lucky wasn’t the word Barry was thinking at the moment.

Barry suddenly felt frustrated and useless, because the Gunman knew how to keep ahead of him, and he didn’t know how that was possible. Was he that predictable, or was the man some sort of mind-reader meta-human? Was he from the future like Eobard Thawne? Did he already know how to beat Barry, because he’d done it already? Had he fought this battle in another timeline before? The possibilities were endless, Barry realized—but he didn’t have the time to linger on which one was the truth, because the Gunman was approaching, now that Barry was downed.

Searing pain began vibrating up his leg as it the bone tried to heal itself, though only succeeding in making things worse, due to how it had been broken… shattered. There was no way he was getting out of here using it, and well, he didn’t have anything to try and amputate it with, but in retrospect, that wasn’t a good idea either. He needed two legs to be the Flash, after all.

“Cisco! What do I do?”

The scientist had been doing his best to keep up with what was happening, but was having more trouble than Barry. His mind was completely blown by the Gunman as well—and the speedster knew he was asking himself the same questions that Barry was. But, despite the situation, he was doing his best to help Barry, even if he wasn’t quite quick enough.

 

~

 

“This just in! The source of the destruction of Central City has been found! The Flash is locked in a deadly duel with a man with a gun that is purely out-of-this-world! Witnesses are calling him ‘the Gunman’!” The reporter on the screen declared. Len scoffed. Cisco would be disappointed that he hadn’t gotten to name the man—not that he could have done a better job, though.

Cisco’s least favorite villains were the ones he didn’t get to name—it always got his panties in a twist, even though nobody else cared enough. Len was dragged out of his amusing thoughts by Lisa’s excited tone, as she pointed toward the—unabashedly—attractive man on the screen, who was walking coyly toward Barry.

From where Len stood by the open door to the balcony, he could see the state of the kid, and it wasn’t a good one. Damn. Every time he saw Barry fight someone that wasn’t him, he was always getting his ass thoroughly handed to him. Len was almost sympathetic toward him—he really was dealing with things that were way over him—way over everyone, and he was the only thing that stood between Central City and utter destruction. Ah, home sweet home.

“He could be useful to our team, Lenny!” Lisa said, turning to look over the back of the sofa at him. Len squinted at her. How could she be so excited when it was it was near 100 degrees outside? It felt like they were burning in hell pre-maturely.

“Certainly fits in with the group,” Mick added. Len nodded. He had a gun, a particularly good one, too. Seemed coy enough. And he could keep ahead of the Flash with ease—that was something Len respected. To be faster than the fastest man alive was certainly a skill that he was still working on perfecting. Usually, he could only keep up with the Flash—maybe get the jump on him with pulling a slick, dick move every once in awhile. But that wasn’t every moment of every day.

“Let’s go talk to him, then.”

~

 

“Even after you show up too late to save your father and to-be-brother-in-law, you still can’t best me? Still not fast enough? Haven’t you been training at all? Because this is just pathetic! Go back to wearing diapers.” The Gunman exclaimed as he made his way toward Barry, twirling the weapon around on his index and middle finger. Barry had no idea how he did it—in theory, wasn’t that firearm supposed to weigh a couple thousand pounds? Did the Gunman have some strength that Barry didn’t know about? He didn’t seem like a normal meta-human, and Cisco’s only understandable theory was that he was genetically modified—or from some future or dimension with advanced responses and physical condition.

The Gunman stooped beside Barry now, smiling—no, grinning—and reaching for his cowl. Barry, somewhere, between his state of not-unconsciousness connected that he could not let the Gunman unmask him—there was a chopper above them, and Barry knew it would and could capture his face, and spread it to the world.

“What is it you want from me?” Barry croaked out. He was on his ass after collapsing, damaged leg tucked beneath his other, as a last resort of defense for it. His hands were the only thing keeping him upright, because every vein in his body—every bone—was challenging him to lie back and go to sleep.

“I got what I wanted. To beat you. But I’m not done yet,” the Gunman patted Barry’s shoulder before gripping the front of the mask and tugging. Barry immediately flipped around and tried to pull away. But the man’s arm was around him, keeping him in place, and Barry didn’t have enough energy to try and break out of his grasp—because this new position revealed that the man did, in fact, have an irregular strength. He wasn’t surprised though.

Barry glanced around, and saw that the gun was beside him, not in the Gunman’s hand. So he was confident, apparently. But now that he had his hands on Barry, and Cisco shouting in his ear, he knew that it was useless. Barry pursed his lips and glared at the man to the best of his ability. The Gunman merely raised an eyebrow, chuckling.

“You look like a kitten.”

 

~

 

Len was the first one out of the car as they pulled up to the scene—their vehicle being the only one on the abandoned street. The Gunman only looked mildly impressed to see their appearance. He paused, though, in unmasking Barry as the band of Rogues approached, guns ready. Cold wasn’t too confident in his weapon’s ability to withstand the heat—especially now that they were outside, in the middle of what would have been, a busy street, with the sun beaming down on them like ugly on Mick. Well, that was mean, but it made Len smirk, nevertheless. Mick would have laughed.

“Hello.” Len started confidently.

“Hi there.” The man replied, dropping Barry and standing up straight. “Can I help you? I’m a bit busy with a few business matters,” he said, placing his foot on Barry’s chest—Barry had just toppled onto the ground, completely at the mercy of Cold saving his ass—which wasn’t necessarily a comforting feeling.

“So sorry to barge in on your powwow,” Cold drawled.

“I’m sure it can wait.”

“Yes, well. We were just happening to watch from that,” Len said, pointing his finger upward, knowing that the helicopter was still hovering, and catching all of this. “And we were interested.”

“Wanna join us? We liked that gun you got there.” Lisa added in, sweet-demon voice that Len knew would be useful in seducing any full-grown man. It even worked on Mick—which Len wasn’t too happy about, but never commented on.

The Gunman seemed to consider it, tilting his head to the side and gripping his chin. “Perhaps—but if this is just a ploy to save the Flash, then I will have to decline. See, I came here to kind of… “ He pressed the heel of his boot into Barry’s chest and Len immediately clenched his jaw after hearing Barry quietly groan.

Why Len was feeling so unimpressed by Barry being injured by someone that wasn’t him—well, he wasn’t going to think about that right now. “Oh, don’t worry. I myself have been in this situation before… I’m sure the Flash here, will remember.” Len inclined his head, and the man’s lips twisted into a dark smile. “I’m afraid this is a now or never kind of offer.”

“Is Cold sticking up for you, or am I actually imagining things right now?” Cisco whispered in Barry’s ear. Barry didn’t have enough waking sense at the moment to respond, and merely made a soft sound of acknowledgement—that probably sounded more like pain than anything else, because really, that was the only thing that Barry could currently feel—other than like, straight panic.

“Of course. I think I’m going to stick with staying solo, though, so no thanks. Maybe next time… and if you don’t mind, I really am busy.”

“Oh, we don’t mind.” Cold responded coyly, pointing his weapon, in unison with Mick and Lisa—ah yes, he was proud of them. They were all on the same page.

“Listen, pretty boy. Either step off—because you’re on our turf, messin’ with our prey—or you’re gonna join us, and shut that cakehole you call a mouth.” Mick snarled.

The Gunman looked insulted, but bemused never the less. He put his hands up, the weapon still on the ground. Barry reached for it—barely knowing what he was doing—and grabbed it, pointing it at the man as well. God, he hoped that the Rogues wouldn’t decide all of a sudden that two birds with one stone was a better idea.

The Gunman looked down at Barry and barked laughter—that was wholly amused—not even the tiniest bit filled with snark or sourness. “Do you even know how to work that, Flash?”

Barry didn’t respond, but he didn’t have the time to wait around for this stand-off to end—because he was already getting blurry-eyed, so close to passing out that he was amazed it hadn’t happened already. And… that’s when he lost consciousness.

But, that wasn’t before he heard the cold gun go off, and a scream of frustration that only could have come from the Gunman.


	2. American Beauty / Pyscho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think I fell in love again... maybe I just took too much cough medicine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally, I wouldn't post so quickly from one chapter to the next, but I'm on my week off for the holiday, and am about as busy as a hibernating bear.
> 
> This chapter was supposed to be a bit shorter, but I kept getting ideas as I was doing the re-write, so here it is. I think that's all I have to say right now.
> 
> Oh-- wait-- yes. I remember. Follow the Spotify playlist, where all the songs that will be featured in Smooth Criminal's chapters can be found! (Hint: these might give you an idea about what happens in later chapters!)
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/12152619188/playlist/3gOIwqwEuL4RZXIg8edVOI

“We had to perform surgery on his leg to keep it from healing wrong. The bone was completely shattered.” Cisco started, pulling up the x-rays of Barry’s leg from the day it was broken. The images loaded onto the large screen on the main wall of the Cortex, drawing the attention of Caitlin and the Rogues. The sight was painful to look at it—and imagining the agony that should have accompanied the injury made Len shudder. The bone was completely wrecked—almost beyond repair. It should have taken months for everything to grow back, and even then, it wouldn’t have been the same.

But Cisco pressed a few buttons and a new image came up. “This is Barry’s leg from the x-ray we took this morning.” Cisco said, as Len looked up again—and damn. Barry’s leg was nearly healed, as well as the muscle and other tissue around it. That kid was lucky as hell.

“I think we can take him off of the tranquilizers by tonight.” Caitlin added, as she examined the x-ray from her own screen as opposed to the one across the room from her.

“Tranquilizers? What tranquilizers could you possibly need to give him?” Lisa asked incredulously, looking between Cisco and Caitlin. Len was curious as well. He already knew that Barry’s metabolism burned through most drugs like morphine and Novocain, but to what extent that the scientists had to go through in order to keep Barry sedated was unbeknownst to him.

“Well, uh… we kind of had to use elephant tranquilizers. And a lot of them…” Caitlin responded, glancing at Cisco who met her gaze briefly before shrugging and leaning back in his swivel chair, unaffected by the topic. Meanwhile, Lisa’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor as she turned to look at her brother.

“Elephant tranquilizers?” She asked, waving her hand in disbelief, though surprisingly, her voice remained somewhat calm.

“Yep.” Cisco responded, grinning smugly at her as she turned to look back at him. Len rolled his eyes. Their ‘thing’ annoyed him to no end. It wasn’t that his sister was getting along with someone—someone that he didn’t particularly like—but it was that the two of them were just so basic and downright cheesy. It was adorable, but he’d never admit that—not even to himself.

“Elephant tranquilizers were the only thing that we could think of that even remotely fit into the equation of how quickly Barry’s metabolism works. Each dose gave us about ten minutes to work on him—fifteen depending on other drugs that we were using as well—”  
  
“So that’s his name? Barry?” Lisa cut her off, crossing her arms as she rounded on Len.

“Barry Allen. Barry being short for Bartholomew.” Len said casually.

At the mention of Barry’s full name, Cisco broke out laughing, and even Caitlin pressed her palm to her mouth to keep herself from outwardly chuckling. Mick seemed to chortle slightly—along with Lisa whose slightly irritated expression shifted into amusement. Len did his best to swallow his own sniggering. Barry’s name was devastatingly hilarious, unfortunately—unfortunately for him.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry. Lisa, I thought you knew?” Caitlin said as she regained herself—bringing the others with her as the group collectively gathered themselves.  
  
“I do now. Mick didn’t know either, though. Lenny here refused to tell us.” Lisa responded, placing her hands on her hips as she cast an annoyed glance at her brother once again. Len was unaffected by her ruthless glares.

“Why?” Cisco squinted.

“It was supposed to be a deal between the kid and me. I’m not sure about how he’ll feel knowing that that little agreement was broken.”  
  
“Oh, please—it wasn’t even your fault, Lenny. Caitlin’s the one that said Barry first.” Lisa waved at him dismissively. Len responded with an eyeroll that he was lucky she didn’t see.

“I’m pretty sure that Barry already thought that you two knew, so you’re good anyway. Unless he asks, don’t mention it. That’s how things usually work around here.” Cisco said with a big—undoubtedly faked—grin; to which Caitlin looked at him with a glaring expression and smacked his arm.

 

~

 

Despite having taken him off of the sedatives the night before—just as they’d talked about—Barry didn’t wake up until about mid-afternoon the next day, while Cisco and Lisa were out fetching lunch for everyone besides Mick. Heat Wave had taken off the day before, declaring that he was bored with waiting around, and that he was going to busy himself. Len had let him go because there was no need for him to stick around at the time being. Lisa only stayed because Cisco was there most of the time.  
  
Right now it was him and Caitlin alone in the Cortex. She was working quietly while Len sat at one of the workbenches, feet propped up and hands busied with polishing the Cold Gun. It had been awhile since he had tended to his favorite—and only—weapon, so it had gotten a bit crusty on the trigger and barrel—as well as around the chamber holding the liquid nitrogen or whatever else the thing used to freeze.

The two hadn’t shared many words, other than Caitlin answering a few questions or asking some of her own.

The silence was broken by Barry’s heartrate monitor spiking—which was startling enough as it was—as well as the once dormant speedster sitting up abruptly and declaring his return to consciousness with a groan.

Caitlin rushed over to Barry’s side, followed by Len a few moments later.

“What happened? Where’s Iris? Is she okay? What about the Gunman? Did you catch him? Is he in Iron Heights? Len—what are you still doing here? I mean I saw you and Lisa and Mick show up at the scene but I blacked out and—”

“Kid, kid, kid. Chill out. One question at a time.” Len said, holding up his hand to cease Barry’s rambling. Barry tensed in response, shutting his mouth abruptly as the heart monitor calmed itself down.

“Okay- uh- is Iris okay?”

“Yes,” Caitlin said. “She’s with Linda right now, recovering from what happened in the sewers. She’s completely safe. Captain Cold and the other two apprehended the Gunman before he could cause any more damage to you or the city. No one saw your face, and no, he’s in the Pipeline right now. We figured you would want to ask questions, and if not, we didn’t want to make a decision without you knowing first.”

Barry nodded, rubbing the back of his head as he gathered his thoughts, thinking over the new information. “Is it true?”

“Is what true?” Caitlin titled her head to the side in confusion.

“Joe’s really dead, isn’t he?”

“I’m afraid so, Bar.”

 

~

 

Barry had fully recovered at close to midnight that night. Cisco and Len had offered to stake out the night, be there in case Barry needed them or the Gunman tried to make a move, or something of the sort—Len had rejected Lisa’s fervent invitation to stay with Cisco, which was something Barry was grateful for. He didn’t want to witness them—alone—in a dark room. At all.

Currently, Cisco was asleep, and Barry believed that Len was too, since his eyes were closed and he hadn’t moved in the last ten minutes from his comfortable position at the workbench—with Cisco behind the monitors as usual. Barry had to swallow his laughter. The two were practically in the same position—feet propped up on their desks, leaned back. The only difference was that Cisco had his hands behind his head, and Len had his hands in his lap.

Barry sneaked down into the Pipeline. He had questions for the Gunman, and he didn’t plan on being nice about getting them.

“You.” He hissed as he opened the lock door leading to the assailant’s cell. After Len had betrayed him and team, there were no more meta-humans in the Pipeline, and any new ones that Barry had come across were now fitted with a nice spot in the revamped Iron Heights.

“Me,” the Gunman responded, raising an eyebrow as Barry approached. “Isn’t it kind of early, Barry? I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly a morning person.” He said snidely.

He looked so oddly confident with his arms crossed, back against the far wall of the cell, one leg crossed over the other. Barry got a brief sense that the man knew how to break out of the Pipeline, and was just waiting for the right time to. Wouldn’t that be now? With Len and Cisco asleep, and Barry weakened by his inability to use the speed force because of his leg?

“I want answers—and we both know that’s not exactly true. You know a lot more about me than you’re letting on. Why?” Barry demanded.  
  
“Why should I tell you? You hate me after all.”

“Will you answer any of my questions?” Barry immediately responded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, and settled glaring at the ceiling instead; eyebrows knitted together in agitation.

“I can. I don’t suppose you plan on asking nicely?”

“Not at all. The way this is going to work, is I’m going to ask something and you’re going to give me an honest answer. And in return you get to live here—where it’s much nicer than Iron Heights. Trust me.” Barry snapped, his gaze shifting from the pipes above his head to the person behind the glass in front of him.

“Sounds fair.”

“Glad we could come to an agreement.”

“Mm.” There were a few minutes of silence as Barry busied himself with gathering his thoughts. But the Gunman spoke again, and Barry lost his train of thought. “I do know more about you than you think. That part you got right.”

“Like what?”

“Pick your choice. I know that your full name is Bartholomew. I know that your dad was arrested for your mother’s murder. I know that you were in a coma for nine months after being struck by lightning, and when you woke up you had superpowers like super-speed and increased metabolism. But, I guess, that’s common knowledge, isn’t it?”  
  
“Yeah.”

“Okay. Well, how about this. That newspaper about your disappearance that Dr. Wells had? That was previously written by Iris West-Allen?”

“Yes?”

“It no longer exists.”

“What?”

“I don’t know if you checked since the singularity—but, yes. It’s gone. I suppose you already know it’s from a clipping in the future?”

“Obviously.”

“Right. Well, that timeline doesn’t exist anymore, so that newspaper could never have happened. See, when Eddie Thawne shot himself in the heart, and it opened a hole—or a tear in the universe, that tear took more than you think it did. Boohoo, you lost some buildings, cars, people, and you may have come into contact with a few of the friends from Earth-2—yes?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, well, that singularity sucked up everything from my timeline—well, almost everything. The future is still in-tact, and you want to know why?”

“Why?”

“Because when your future was erased, and my past was erased… what do you think happened?”

“Our timelines combined?”

“A miracle.”

“So… are you from the future, too, then? Just like Eobard Thawne?”

“I suppose you could say that.” The Gunman sighed, uncrossing his arms and cracking his neck in displeasure. “But not as far ahead into the future as him. Only one generation, to be exact. Not multiple ones.”

“Okay. That makes sense, I suppose. So why come here? Why kill Joe and Eddie?” Barry asked. His voice had lost most of its venom—and he hoped to god that it didn’t break at the mention of his two lost family members.

“Well I wanted to get your attention, and because I already knew everything about you, I just had to make a big enough move that would not only captivate you, but make you upset enough that you wouldn’t immediately ship me off to Iron Heights.”

“And how did you know I wouldn’t do that?”

“I know you on a bit more of a… ‘personal’ level.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know if you want to know the answer to that question.” The Gunman responded, suddenly looking more guarded than he had before; head slightly tilted to the side.

“You don’t get to choose whether or not I want to hear an answer. I do.” Barry responded with a bit of heat. The Gunman raised his palms in defense.  
  
“Fine, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said with the roll of his eyes. “In this dimension that I come from—Earth-7 as you would call it—I had two fathers. One of them was Leonard Snart and the other was Barry Allen.”

“What?”

“I warned you.”

Barry was silent for a long while. He pressed his fingers to his temple and closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths to keep his heartrate from jumping ahead to some unspeakable speed. “Okay- yes. I’ll try to keep an open mind. So, what? We raised you?”

“You two started dating in 2015, were married in 2016, and adopted me in 2018.”

“What’s your name?”

“…Michael Allen. Leonard wanted to take your name because he didn’t want to keep his father’s.”

“Makes sense.”

“Indeed. I don’t suppose that your own parents are the same as they were in Earth-7?”

“What does that mean?”

“Unless Henry and Harrison Allen are your current parents…”

“Are you serious?”

“Very.”

“Harrison—as in Harrison Wells?”

“The same.”

“Oh my god.”

Michael merely chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“So wait—does this mean that your future is also going to become my future?”

“Presumably. But of course, as many people have said before me, you can always change that.” Michael responded, tilting his head to the side with a smile. “But you’ll never get another me, sadly.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m an anomaly. See, the only reason that I wasn’t sucked up into the singularity—that would have erased my entire existence—is because I was dicking around inside the particle accelerator before its second test run.”

“Second?”

“Grandpa Harrison got permission from the state as long as he agreed to have Mercury Labs help with the rebuild and launch. So it’s S.T.A.R.-Merc Labs where I come from.” Michael responded coolly.

“Okay, I guess that makes sense. This is a lot for me.”

“I’m sure.”

“So to sum up this conversation—I’m married to Leonard Snart, with a child. My parents are Harrison Wells and Henry Allen and there was supposed to be another launch of the particle accelerator because Harrison got Mercury Labs to help him with the rebuild?” Barry asked, still rubbing his temples.

“Pretty much.”

“It seems so simple when put like that—wait, how old are you?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“Oh god. You’re my son and older than me.”

“Ew, is that were this dimension is? What year is it? 2015?”

“Yeah.”

“That was a… haha… that was a year, wasn’t it?”

“So far it sure has been.” Barry responded with a slight groan.

“It gets worse.”

“Comforting.”

“Do you have any more questions?”

“Yeah. Was I the Flash in that timeline?”

“You were. As I said, they were about to run the particle accelerator for the second time. So, presumably, you were affected the first time there just as you were here.”

“Right. What about Snart?”

“What about him?”

“I can’t see me loving someone that’s a cold-blooded killer.”

“Oh, but he isn’t. What most people don’t realize is that beneath all that stone-cold outer-asshole, there’s a lot of nice and caring. How else would he have raised a child like me?”

“Well it turns out that you aren’t so great. You killed two men.”

“I used to be a good guy.”

“And?”

“I got bored.”

 

~

 

Len didn’t think he could pretend that he hadn’t been listening to that whole thing. He had been awake—just on the verge of falling asleep when he heard Barry get up. Len was tempted to follow, but figured he only would if Barry left S.T.A.R. Labs, otherwise, he could watch from their security cameras. Cisco had conveniently left the footage up on the monitor, and it didn’t take a genius to scroll down and click on the one focused on the Gunman—Michael—and Barry.

After watching the encounter and learning what Barry had, Len was left with such a raging headache is was almost physically painful. He didn’t want to think about any of it—especially not in the tired state that he was currently in.

Barry returned a few minutes later, looking shaken and not at all at ease as he had been on the camera before. Immediately, he and Len made eye contact, but neither of them spoke a word.

Finally, Barry seemed to gather himself. Len would have had spoken, but he was too busy sitting there calmly, lips pressed in a tight line as he gazed at Barry through a guarded expression.

“You heard all of that, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

_“Oh, and Mr. Allen…”_

Both Barry and Len jumped slightly as Michael spoke through the microphone on the computer. Len looked over quickly to see that the Gunman was looking straight up at the camera.

_“I had every intention to kill Iris before you showed up. You should know that it was fun to watch Eddie and Joe die. I’m stuck in this timeline without my gun, you know. I need it to leave. I should probably mention that I know how to get out of this Pipeline of yours—and out of Iron Heights if you try that, too. And you should know I plan on finishing what I started. And this time, it won’t be just Iris.”_

“Why?” Barry asked, rushing forward and speaking into the microphone loud enough that it woke Cisco who had been happily sleeping beside the two.  
  
_“I lost everything, as you now know. Why do you think? If it’s gone, I want it to stay gone. All that ‘second chances’ bullshit you hear about? Useless. Take it from me, Mr. Allen. If your life was ripped away from you—would you want it back? Entirely different, but the same? No. You wouldn’t. It’s all or nothing.”_

“You don’t have to kill people to get it! Just take your gun and go somewhere else—some dimension where you’re perfectly happy! Ruining my life won’t make you feel better about your loss.” Barry snapped back.

_“We think very differently. I’m done talking to you, Barry, but I think we’ll be seeing each other again very soon.”_

“What does that mean?” Barry asked sharply, staring at the screens. But he received no response, and much to his horror, Michael pulled a glove like material from his pants pocket, and when he put it on, he was able to reach through the reinforced door and punch in the code to open his cell on the keypad.

“Shit—go!” Barry yelled, running from the Cortex. He only made it a couple hundred feet before he toppled over. Cisco stooped beside him as Len rushed ahead of them.

 

~

 

“So, wait, how exactly did he get out?” Caitlin asked for about the fourth time in the last five minutes. Barry groaned and rubbed his face, feeling unnecessarily guilty about the whole situation. If he hadn’t gone down there to talk with Michael, none of this would have happened—Michael would still be waiting.  
“He had this molecule transforming glove that allowed him to reach his arm through the door and open it.”

“But how did he get past the secondary door?”

“That we’re still not sure of. Len said he had punched through it—probably with that glove—and got out that way. I examined the door and that’s the only logical explanation I could come up with, as well.” Cisco said, sitting back in his swivel chair. A deep frown settled itself on each of the scientists’ faces, but Len and Lisa seemed indifferent as per usual.

“Does he have his gun?” Caitlin asked with a hopeful tone.

“Yeah, he does. And this is my fault. We have no idea what he’s going to do, and it’s probably go after Iris.” Barry said quickly, dropping his hands to his sides. Iris—who had joined them after being warned of what had happened the night prior—simply walked over and placed her hand on his arm.

“I’m here, Barry. It’s safe here.”

“No, it’s not.” Barry responded testily, looking at her sharply.

“There is no safer place than right beside you, Barry. Not for me.” His sister responded calmly. Barry didn’t need a mirror to know that his eyes were red-rimmed from the stress—he always cried when he was stressed out. It was one of his least favorite things about his body.

Barry looked down at his feet, silent for a good minute before he turned and left the Cortex, not wanting any of them to see him right now. He decided to settle in the lounge—screw the cameras.

Len watched the whole thing and felt his heart ache. He looked toward his little sister and she returned his gaze, silently urging him to go after Barry even if the two were still on very, very shaky terms. He sighed and moved past them after the speedster, not failing to get a glimpse of Caitlin looking agitated at having Barry and Cold be alone—though it wasn’t like they wouldn’t be supervised.

When Len found Barry, the speedster was sitting on the couch, knees brought up to his chin. It was childish and yet adorable at the same time.  
  
“Hey kid.” Cold murmured, leaning over and resting his elbows on the back of the couch, not too close and not abnormally far from where Barry was seated. Hearing the older man’s voice, Barry dropped his legs and looked up swiftly, before turning his head away, seemingly remembering that there were tears in his eyes. “You don’t need to hide from me.”

“Why shouldn’t I? You’re my nemesis, remember?” Barry grumbled back unenthusiastically.

“And yet, here I am.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I just came to talk.” Len drawled, resting his cheek against his palm as he looked at the side of Barry’s face.

“Enemies don’t try and comfort each other.”

“Well, you know that they say. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” Len responded with a smirk. Barry chuckled slightly in response, but it faded quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“What isn’t wrong?”

“Fair enough—how about this, then. What’s wrong right now?”

“Well my dad was killed, along with one of my closest friends—and the criminal that did it is apparently my son from the future; who also threatened to kill my best friend plus, probably, my other friends, all because something that wasn’t my fault took everything away from him. I feel like an elementary schooler getting picked on at recess.” Barry choked out, pressing his palms into his eyes.

Len pursed his lips, eyebrows rising as he considered it. Yeah, seemed like a reasonable excuse to be stressed out. “That won’t happen.”

“Who’s to say it won’t?” Barry asked, looking up at Len as another tear slipped down his cheek.

“The only one who doesn’t have full faith in you is _you_ , kid. The reason that Joe and Eddie died is because you didn’t know that they’d been captured. And—well—yes, maybe Michael beat your ass the first time, but that doesn’t mean he will again. Because you know now, kid. You’d be surprised at how much power that knowledge gives you.” Len said casually.

Barry looked away, and Len sighed. There was so much doubt in the kid’s eyes it was physically painful. He stepped over the back and settled on the cushion beside Barry.  
  
“Comfy.”

Barry smiled slightly, but busied himself with wiping his eyes clear. At least Len had gotten him to stop crying.

“Besides, this time, you’ll have the Rogues to watch your back.”

“What? Really? Why?” Barry looked up sharply, eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“This is my city, and if that son of a bitch—”

“—he’s our son.”

“—son of some bitches thinks he can come in and destroy it? He thought wrong.” Len drawled, though there was some determination to his tone. That got Barry to smile, and it brought a tiny bit of amusement in Len as well. Not his fault that Barry’s smile was contagious.

“What do we do now?” Barry asked after a few minutes of silence.

“While he’s plotting out his next plan, we use the time to get better at what we do. For you, that’s run. For me, well, I’m already the best at what I do. But Lisa and Mick could use some work.”

Barry chuckled light-heartedly, all traces of sadness having evaporated from the younger’s mood.

“Not gonna happen, I’m afraid. My plan’s already been set in motion.”

Len saw the horror spread across Barry’s face before he felt the annoying sensation of an overly-large firearm barrel being pointed at the back of his head. “Ah, Michael. I thought you left.”

“’Fraid not. I just know all the blind-spots on the cameras in this place, conveniently enough—grew up here, after all. I was a bit of a troublemaker for the parents.”  
  
“I can imagine.”


	3. High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is this hello, or this goodbye?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just might want to add so there’s no confusion, but this story is taking place between The Darkness and the Light and Gorilla Warfare. Whether or not the story gets ahead of the show is up to how quickly I post chapters (so the chances are slim). But because my story includes different events and characters currently in the chapters, my story will only shadow the events in the episodes—not go hand in hand with them. With that being said, we’re picking up before The Darkness and the Light.
> 
> Also, the rewrite is done for this chapter!

“What’s this plan of yours, then?” Len continued, raising an eyebrow despite him staring straight at Barry and speaking to Michael. Barry bit his lips, eyebrows knitting together in anxiousness as he watched the two.

“Well it goes a little like—this.” Michael said pressing the gun firmly into the short hairs on the back of Len’s head. The Extinguisher whirred to life. Len didn’t jump—he’d been at gun point before, but Barry on the other hand sat up straighter, making a small noise of extreme discomfort, and looked like he was about to make a move that Len wouldn’t necessarily count as a reliable safety technique—but then again, this was the Flash.

But also, Barry didn’t have any of his powers. _Wouldn’t that have been useful?_ He thought sarcastically.

“Gonna kill me? Spill my brains out in front of the Flash?”

“That’s the plan. But he shouldn’t worry—he’ll be next.”

Len wouldn’t have been so upset if it had been anybody other than Barry that was threatened, but the smooth, sardonic ring to Michael’s tone made Len’s teeth grind together. Barry saw Len’s jaw clench, and it didn’t put him at any less ease. The threat made by his futuristic son was distant in his ears, and meant little. The Flash had been threatened more than he’d been hurt in his life—although, at this rate, that might be quickly changing.

And suddenly, Barry felt the electricity again; coursing through his veins like static adrenaline. He didn’t know where it came from—perhaps from the panic bubbling just below the surface of his consciousness. He lunged forth and watched as time slowed—for him—once again as he knocked the Extinguisher from Michael’s hand and pinned him to the ground, pressing him to the floor with his knees.

Len looked over his shoulder. He’d only felt a gust of wind and the sound of the large firearm falling to the floor. Briefly, he noted that Barry was no longer in his line of vision. But, ultimately, he wasn’t too surprised to see that Barry had—quite successfully—taken down Michael.

“Impressive. I didn’t think you had it in you.” Michael barked snarkily from the floor.

Len rolled his eyes, standing and looking over Barry’s shoulder at the Gunman. “You look a little held up. What’s your plan for your plan?” The felon tilted his head the side with a smirk.

“I’m working on it.” Michael responded bitterly, returning the snide smile. “I think I might have something in mind.”

“What’s that?”

Barry gasped as suddenly Michael had thrown him off with a surprising amount of strength. Len immediately grabbed the Extinguisher up from the floor and pointed it at Michael’s chest—as, now, Michael stood in front of him, no doubt having planned on retrieving the weapon himself.

“What was that? Could you repeat yourself? I didn’t quite understand.”

Michael exhaled in exasperation, causing Len’s smirk to grow.

“Lenny!”

Cold glanced up to see his sister in the doorway, a weapon of her own drawn, with Iris standing behind her with a pistol slightly raised. He focused his attention on Michael in case the perpetrator had any new ideas he felt like trying out. Barry groaned and stood up, though was otherwise in mint condition.

“Grab a pair of cuffs or something to bind his hands.” Len ordered, glancing up at any of the three.

“That won’t be necessary…” Michael attempted. Len responded by shoving the barrel against his sternum a bit more forcefully.

“You keep quiet.”

“No.”

Len growled, before he felt a hand on the weapon—and then Michael was gone. His mouth gaped slightly. He wasn’t the only one.

The other three in the room stood frozen in shock. It hadn’t been loud or obnoxious in any way—Michael just seemed to dissipate into thin air.

But then Cisco and Caitlin were there, looking less confused than anyone else.

“He must have left the timeline.” Cisco said, pinching his chin as he examined the area that Michael had been standing in a good thirty seconds or so before. “You said that he needed the weapon to leave? Like—leave the dimension, right?” The scientist asked, looking up at Barry who still was in shock.

Barry nodded, rubbing the back of his head as he snapped his mouth closed, slowly coming back into reality from whatever trance he had been in.

“Makes sense, I suppose. If he can get his hands on the Extinguisher, then he can go where he pleases. Without it, he’s stuck here. So—new plan—if he ever comes back, we have to do everything we can to keep the gun out of his reach and preferably not around him _at all_.” Cisco continued with a shrug.

“Can't we just hope that he’s gone for good?” Iris chipped in quietly.

“Sorry but, that’s not how things work around here.” Barry responded with a bit of venom.

“Hey—can’t hate a girl for trying.”

“Yeah,” Lisa pouted, making her comment quietly.

 

—

 

The group had dissipated a few minutes afterwards, and regrouped in the Cortex to talk about ally details between Team Flash and the Rogues. Len promised that they would help catch Michael, and with a few pouting glances and unfairly beautiful smiles, Barry had gotten Len to give up his “you-owe-me-a-solid” ideal, but had still guaranteed Team Flash’s assistance with the Santini mafia family that had it out for Len.

“I’m headed home!” Barry called out, briefly cutting off a conversation being passed around between Cisco, Lisa, and Iris. Len nodded in his direction, and didn’t think a second thought of it as Barry grabbed his coat and departed from the Cortex.

Though, a few minutes later, Caitlin came up to him, catching his attention. “Can you stick around him for a little while? I’d ask Iris or someone else to, but with what happened about Joe and Eddie… well… he seems to like you, so… and it’s not really appropriate if Cisco or I were to.” She said in a quiet voice.

Len frowned as he thought over her words. “You want me to be his _bodyguard_?”

“Essentially, I suppose. He’s the only one that’s quick enough to stop Michael and the Extinguisher and it’s just best if he isn’t alone. Plus, I’m worried about his leg. He was able to use the Speed Force today in the lounge, but I don’t know... he might try again and stress it, or- I just don’t know.” She stumbled over her words, causing Len to smile slightly. She reminded him of Barry in a way.

“I can do that, I guess. Chances are he won't like it, though."

“He’ll get over himself.”

Len nodded, before grabbing his own coat in a similar way that Barry had, and pulled it on. Caitlin nodded back and waved as Len headed out, before she joined the conversation between the other members in the room, once he had gone.

 

—

 

Len was unashamed that he knew Barry’s address by heart. He chosen not to acknowledge that fact. After arriving at the speedster’s household, Len took a few minutes to look around. It was silent mostly; except for some machine in the basement that incessantly whirring—much to Len’s displeasure.

“Barry?” He finally called, though there was no response. Which was irritating.

Len trudged up the stairs now, and looked in a few of the rooms. One had a large, unused King-sized bed. That would be Joe’s—and Len wasn't really surprised that Barry didn’t use it. He doubted Iris would either.

He could tell which one was Iris’ room, too. Mainly because it had a few make up variables sitting at the desk, and a stray bra on the floor by the hamper. Most of her clothes had been removed though—taken to Linda’s place, no doubt.

The final bedroom was undoubtedly Barry’s. It was mostly blank apart from a double bed that hadn’t been made in weeks, with clothes strewn across the floor, and a computer that was still on, placed on a cluttered desk. Len opened it, and when the screen loaded, it revealed an article on the Internet about the Flash. Yes, _this_ was definitely Barry’s room.

Len turned, ready to depart and call Barry’s cellphone to see where he was, but only made it a few paces out of the doorway before he accidentally ran into something—or rather, someone.

“Ah. There you are.” Len drawled, looking down at the brunette who looked so satisfyingly flustered, with blush quickly creeping up his neck to his face. It was only added to that embarrassment that Barry was wearing a towel (fresh out of the shower, quite obviously).

“ _What_ are you doing here? And _why_ were you in my room?” Barry asked, taking a step back and double-checking that the knot keeping the towel around his waist was secure. The action made Len’s smirk grow.

“Caitlin asked me to be your bodyguard. Concerned about that leg of yours. Didn’t want you to get attacked by Michael.” Len responded.

Barry took a minute to process it, before he sighed, and relaxed. “Okay. Yeah. You can use Joe’s room, I guess. I mean—if you’re spending the night. You don’t have to. That’s not what I meant, I just—”

“I got it, kid. My only requirement is beer in the fridge.” Len cut him off, raising his hand.

“There should be some there.” Barry nodded.

“Cool.” Len smirked again, brushing past Barry as he moved toward the steps.

Barry exhaled swiftly, and entered his room to change. He glanced at the desk—his computer was on, but otherwise, untouched. Len must have been snooping around. While that didn’t exactly sit right with Barry, he wasn’t ultimately surprised. Leave it to Captain Cold to go through his stuff when at his house _protecting_ him.

Barry and Len caught up again once Barry had descended the steps (fully clothed) to find Captain Cold relaxed and lying on his couch, with his feet propped up on Barry’s coffee table—remote in hand, while watching TV and drinking a beer. Barry would have laughed at the domesticity of it all if it weren’t _Leonard Snart._

“Oh hey.” Len said casually, drawing his gaze away from the screen slowly to smirk at Barry.

“…Hi.” Well, _this_ totally wasn’t the most awkward thing that had ever happened. Len raised an eyebrow at Barry, waiting for him to say something.

“Why are you here, again?” Barry squinted, shaking his head slightly because he still didn’t understand. Truth be told, he hadn’t really been listening when he encountered Len after he got out of the shower—no, he’d been more focused on making sure he didn't _flash_ Len.

“Caitlin wanted me to look after you. She was worried about Michael showing up, or you hurting your leg, or both.” Cold responded. “Beer’s good, by the way."

“Okay, yeah, good...” Barry sucked in a breath as he walked away from the living room, and disappeared into the kitchen.

But Barry didn’t linger out of Len’s sight for long. He merely grabbed a cold burrito from the fridge and sat down on the couch—not necessarily beside Len, considering there was a cushion in between them, but not acutely placing distance between them.

And Len had to wonder. When did it become that he was so comfortable around Barry? Obviously, Barry wasn’t as comfortable around him, but usually Len would have a problem with making himself at home—and you would think, especially in the home of his one sworn enemy. But, no, here he was. Relaxed.

“Feel like watching a movie?” Barry asked through a mouthful of burrito. Len chuckled and glanced at the brunette a foot or two away from him.

“Sure, kid. What do you have in mind?”

“We should watch the Nightmare before Christmas! Cause, like, Christmas is coming up, y’know? And I love that movie—Iris does too. Joe not so much; he always got this serious look on his face when we would watch it, and said it was unrealistic and boring, and that Tim Burton had a messed up childhood, and I mean, at the time it was a little disconcerting but now I look back on it and it’s just funny… Sorry. I’m talking a lot.”

Len simply sat there with a sated, almost goofy smirk on his face as he listened to every word Barry had to say, and the expression only grew when Barry began his apology. “No worries, kid. You want to watch The Nightmare before Christmas? Sure. I’m cool with that.”

Barry grinned and placed his burrito in the paper wrapping before jumping up from the couch and running over to the TV stand. He shuffled through the DVD cases for a minute or so before retracting the one he was looking for, and inserting the disc into the player. Len raised an eyebrow as he simply tossed the case on the ground before returning to his seat. So Barry wasn’t the most organized person. Well, he’d gotten that from the state of the kid’s bedroom—so it must be Iris that kept the place spotless. Len doubted that Joe had been the one to do it. Joe didn’t appear—to him—as one of the clean-everything-all-the-time kind of father.

After they finished watching the movie it was still too early to go to sleep, so they made idle chit chat and watched cable for a few hours before cleaning up the food, bidding their goodnights, and disappearing into their respective rooms.

Len was surprised how much he had enjoyed the evening; thinking about it as he lay in Joe’s bed, unable to sleep. Sure, he and Barry hadn’t talked much, but Barry didn’t seem so on-edge around him anymore, and that was oddly relaxing for him.

Len’s thoughts wandered once more to when this would have ever happened—when he and his literal arch nemesis could share a couch and watch a children’s movie, and be totally entertained without trying to kill each other.

The stone-cold part of Len told him that as soon as they caught Michael and finished with the Santini’s, to take advantage of this. Team Flash would trust the Rogues by then—maybe even hope that they would work as an entire, large group in crime-fighting; a perfect opportunity to utterly destroy Barry, Cisco, and Caitlin. Maybe even for good.

But he knew he wouldn’t do that. He knew that Lisa wouldn’t want that for them.

And Len didn’t want it either, if he was being completely honest with himself.

 

—

 

When Len woke up that morning, Barry was gone. A text message sent from about an hour before from the kid himself said that he had gone to work, and that Len was welcome to raid the fridge for breakfast. Len doubted there was anything even left in fridge, considering how much Barry ate on a daily basis—which really was quite ridiculous.

Despite this, though, Len did manage to find an egg carton and prepare breakfast for himself—but the bacon he found in one of the cabinets, he was sure was stale. A fresh beer helped that go down just fine, though.

Meanwhile, Barry was at S.T.A.R. Labs. He had been on his way to work just like every other day, when Cisco had called him and told him that he needed to come in effective immediately. Reluctantly, Barry had agreed, and had popped in seconds later; stamping out the flames that had erupted from his shoes.

“This is Dr. Harrison Wells from… Earth-2,” Caitlin had said, indicating toward the man. They’d done research on the breach in the basement with Dr. Stein’s help, and had concluded that it was in fact a portal to another world. Another Earth, which lead them to believe that somewhere in the city, there was a portal to Earth-7—where Michael was from.

Barry had been encountering the aftermath of Harrison Wells ditzing about in the city, so he wasn’t too shocked when he had first gotten sight of his former enemy’s reinvented face.

It had been about an hour since then, and now Harry was reading Dr. Wells’ autobiography that Barry had provided—when the man had asked about what his Earth-1-self had been like.

“Very strange to be holding your autobiography. Especially when you didn’t write it. And it’s not about you.” The man said with finality, as he tossed the white book haphazardly onto the Cortex’s desk which held up the usual monitors that Caitlin and Cisco generally used.

“So—wait—let me get this straight. You’re the doppelganger of the man who murdered his mom,” Cisco started, pointing at Barry with a scowl on his face, one arm tucked beneath his elbow as he did so. “And is responsible for both Ronnie and Eddie’s deaths?” Cisco finished, with more a state to his tone than a question.

“Yeah, but he’s not even the doppelganger of the Dr. Wells that we knew because that Dr. Wells’ body had been taken over by the Reverse-Flash—who was really Eobard Thawne and Eddie’s distant relative from the future.” Caitlin added in, nodding to herself as she said so, a bit of a vacant look to her eyes as she confirmed what both Cisco and Barry already knew.

“Yeah I didn’t follow any of that.” Harry stated with a blank expression before taking a few steps forward. “I’m my own man and I had nothing to do with the murder of your mother or your friend Rickie.” The older scientist stated, meeting Barry’s gaze sternly and briefly inclining his head toward Caitlin and Cisco as he butchered Ronnie’s name.

“His name was Ronnie.” Caitlin defended with slight sourness.

“Him either.” Harry looked at her distinctly. The two of Barry’s friends did not look amused, and Cisco was still elaborating with his finger pointed unconsciously at Wells.

“You said you had proof of your identity?” Barry asked—which, again, was more of a statement.  
Wells moved past Barry toward his bag. “This almost hit me when I went through the portal,” he said as he pulled out a slightly smaller, grey hand bag. “Your stabilized breach downstairs connects directly to the S.T.A.R. Labs on my Earth.”

“Technically this could be mine,” Caitlin said as she took the hand bag, “but I want to run some tests on you.”

“I’ll be genetically indistinguishable from my Earth-1 counterpart. Your tests will reveal nothing.” Harry said with unwavering confidence and a blank expression as Cisco moved past the two of them.

“Great. Still gonna run ‘em.” Caitlin said with a similar attitude.

“Be my guest.”

“Why are we even listening to him?” Cisco muttered quietly—not quietly enough that Wells wouldn’t hear him, though—to Barry. “How do we know he’s not evil like the other guy?”

“He saved my life a few days ago.” Barry responded, turning to look at Cisco briefly with his arms crossed, before righting his gaze back on Caitlin and Wells. “The question is why. I’m guessing you didn’t travel between dimensions just to meet The Flash?” Barry continued, as Wells fiddled with his knapsack.

Almost instantly after Barry had spoken, though, Wells looked up with intensity. “That’s exactly what I did. I came here to help you, Barry, to stop your greatest enemy.”

“He already did that.” Cisco responded sourly, head tilted downward slightly to amplify his boyish glare.

“I’m not talking about Reverse-Flash.” Wells insisted, meeting Cisco’s gaze without staggering. “I’m talking about Zoom.” Caitlin nodded and turned away. “I see you’ve already heard of him.” Wells continued, taking note of the severity that his words had left.

“Yeah, Zoom has been sending meta-humans from your world—through the breaches—to fight me.” Barry informed Harry, trying his best not to look as downcast as he felt. Was that how Michael got here? Had Zoom sent him here? Or did Michael just pick this timeline himself?

“Well,” Harry went back to fiddling with his knapsack again as he spoke. “They’re the symptoms. Zoom’s the plague—one that’s infected my world, and now he’s coming for yours.”

“What do you know about Zoom?” Barry pressed, a bit fed up with talking about this for the time being.

“Everything.” Wells responded immediately, fixating his gaze on Barry with startling quickness. “I created Zoom.”

Barry glanced at Cisco, who stood a foot or two away, watching the encounter with a quizzical and distant—though agitated—gaze.

“I’m responsible for the all of the Earth-2 meta-humans,” Harry continued, unslinging the gun-like object from his shoulder and starting it up. “A fact I’ve ignored for far too long—but now,” he said as the thing whirred to life. “I’m doing something about it.” He declared, and Barry could see the determination in his eyes—hear it in his voice. However, he put the live weapon on one of the workbenches as to not alarm the Earth-1 scientists.

“Yeah, well, we’re batting a thousand against these breachers.” Cisco said, departing from the square they’d created unconsciously and moving toward the monitors.

“You’re batting a thousand, Crisco? What’s your sample size? Ten? Less?” Harry asked, looking up at him. Barry merely looked away, nodding slightly and instead focusing on the wall as Cisco stopped to listen to Harry as he continued. “Zoom is obsessed with speed. He will never allow there to be another speedster in the multiverse, and he’s gonna keep sending metas here, one after the next; all with the same goal: to kill The Flash, unless we stop him together.”

“Last time we listened to a guy with your face, some bad things went down.” Cisco said skeptically. Caitlin nodded, looking at the shorter scientist—Barry had no doubt she was thinking about Ronnie.

“We lost people we cared about.” She then stated, proving Barry right. The speedster turned his gaze from his friends and fixed it back on Wells as the man gathered air to speak.

“Everyone loses someone they care about, Snow. The real test of character is what you do once they’re gone.” Harry stated with venom that had to have some story behind it.

The air became tense around them, and Barry decided he needed a moment to clear his head. “I’ll be back,” he stated calmly, before stepping out of the Cortex, aware that Harry’s eyes were following him.

“We know someone that can verify everything this guy just said, so be careful.” Caitlin let out a breath, patting Cisco’s shoulder as she walked past him.

“I don’t suppose you have a Big Belly Burger in this universe, do you?” Harry asked, tilting his chin upward at the wary-looking Cisco.

“This isn’t happening.” Cisco responded, shaking his head slightly as he turned away.

 

—

 

“You do realize when I said that I wanted a drink; I didn’t mean a latte, right? I was talking about alcohol.” Cisco stated, waving his hands about as he and Barry entered Jitters. “Like mind-numbing alcohol…”

“Alright, look. Just give him a chance, okay? He’s not a speedster. He’s just a regular, normal guy from another universe.” Barry attempted, trying to persuade Cisco as they got in line. Cisco, however, was unamused and crossed his arms.

“I never thought I’d miss time travel.” Cisco responded under his breath, but with sourness.  
“Time travel, huh?”

Both Barry and Cisco turned sharply to see Lisa and Len standing behind them. Lisa wore a smirk, as she was the one to speak and having gotten their attention. Len looked otherwise indifferent, and met Barry’s—almost instant—gaze.

“Hey! Are you kidding?” Barry greeted a bit hesitantly, though still grinning slightly. It was quite the sight to see two supervillains just casually in a coffee shop.

“Hi!” Lisa responded to Barry, though quickly smiled at Cisco who looked a bit awestruck.

“Is there a meta-human that can time travel?” She asked, crossing her arms curiously as she looked between the two of them. Barry tried not to notice how Len’s gaze didn’t waver from the side of his face.

“Not exactly.” Barry responded with a bit of an exasperated sigh.

“Cause that’s pretty cool,” Lisa continued, while Cisco simply stood there with a ‘o’ expression, as his eyes flickered from Lisa to Barry, and from Barry to Len, and from Len back to Lisa as if he were still calculating the situation.

The three of them shared a brief laugh, before Cisco murmured beneath his breath “not so sure about that”.

“So, what about King Shark?” Len suddenly interrupted.

“King Shark? Nice name. He’s cool, I’ll give him that.” Cisco quipped in, causing Barry to laugh.

“Hm—apparently King Shark almost ate The Flash?” Len drawled onward, causing the laughter to die at Barry’s lips, replaced by blush. He’d hoped that no one would have known about that—but, leave it to Len to figure it out.

“Oh, nah, I’m sure The Flash it handled.” Barry responded, attempting to blow off the obvious prick at his pride.

“Not from what I heard. Apparently some hooded guy saved his life?” Len inquired.

“You know, I love this city.” Barry suddenly changed the subject. Cisco and Lisa laughed slightly, as Len smirked coolly before retracting his phone from his pocket and glaring at the message on the screen.

“Mick’s having a fuss again.” He stated, looking up and making eye contact with his sister, who sighed in response.

“You wanna help, Cisco? We could always use a level-headed guy like you around.” Lisa cooed as she turned toward the short scientist.

“She might as well be saying ‘my brother is chopped liver’.” Len said snarkily, earning a wide grin and a laugh from Barry—as well as a sheepish smile from Cisco.

“Uh, I can’t tonight. I’m busy. Uh, yeah, sorry.” Cisco responded quickly.

“You sure?” Lisa responded, eyes twinkling.

“Yeah, I’ve just got science stuff. Stuff I gotta science the stuff out of. Maybe next time, though…” Cisco continued on, rambling. Barry met his gaze, doing his best to transfer a ‘are you kidding me?’ look to his friend.

“We best hurry, before he burns something down, Lis.” Len drawled.

“Of course, brother dear.” She waved her hand at the two as she followed the elder Snart out of the coffee shop.

“Dude, for real?” Barry asked as soon as they were gone.

“Stop, all right? I don’t want to worry about handling a relationship on top of Michael, and Wells, aaand Zoom, aaaaaand the metas that your boyfriend was so kind enough as to let out.” Cisco held up his hand.

“He’s not—”

“Sure.”

“Cisco!”

“Don’t blush.”

“I’m not!”

“Right. And I’m not Cisco Ramon.”

“Cisco!”

“What?”

Barry waved his hands exasperatedly.

“So you think he’s hot. Nothing wrong with that.” Cisco shrugged. “I mean, he’s not an unattractive person, but… you know, go for it if you want that booty, man.”

“Cisco!”

“Barry! He’s kinda old for you, isn’t he, though?”

“Stop it! And he’s probably only like thirty something—”

“See, now you’re considering it.”

“No!”


End file.
